Denial & Demons
by BeanieOTTB
Summary: Mistral Academy's leagues different from Beacon Academy, even though the latter doesn't exist, and hasn't for forty years. The students of Beacon Academy were also far different from the students of Mistral. As a young faunus with a new friend and elite ambitions, Aracion prepared to do whatever it takes to defend her dreams-which may include a human boy... Rated T for safety.
1. Agressive

**I think I've just entered the world of OCs. And, wow. It's amazing. I hope you enjoy my characters-especially Aracion-and my story. Thanks!**

* * *

 **Aracion's POV**

The impact of the bullet that knocked me off my feet and backward into Troy was expected. The choice to step into the path of the tiny ball of buckshot was conscious, just as I was always conscious to protect said boy. It wasn't that I was obsessed with him, but he was my partner, and I was entitled to protect him. He would have done the same thing for me.

"Oof!" Troy hit the ground, and I tumbled down on top of him, skittering to my feet with a litheness only faunus possessed.

Another reason why I needed to defend him. I was faunus-equine-eared, if I'm specific-and he was human. My exceptional senses had saved his stupid ass four times in the three months we'd been partnered.

My next job was returning my mind to my body and figuring out where the bullet had come from. It hadn't hurt me-save for a huge bruise-thanks to the steel bones in my corset. Now, I flicked my pitch-black ears while my eyes-a super-obnoxious lime-green-swept across the deserted street, documenting any escape routes if it became necessary. Sometimes, I hated being a huntress-in-training. In my hand, Fayodale's-a double-bladed disk attached to a steel cable with a broadsword form-dust was running short, and I sighed. This entire dust thing was sucking up the majority of my bank account. Whatever. I'd worry about that later.

A flash of movement caught my eye, and not even a second later, Fayodale had left my hand, buried the windowsill of a nearby building, and I had slung myself onto the same windowsill. My eyesight didn't need any time to adjust to the darkness as I pulled my weapon from the window and found myself nose-to-nose with a black-masked man.

Wow. Talk about cliche.

Cliche or not, I slammed the heel of my hand into his nose, driving the cartilage into his brain like a pin through fleece. I'd killed before, and, wrong as it was, it had never really disturbed me. I was indifferent. I was defending Troy, and ultimately, all of Mistral Academy's students by killing this man.

In the time it had taken me to cover all this, the man slumped to the ground, looking pathetic and dead. Yes, especially the dead part.

. . .

 **Aracion's POV**

"Aracion, what was that?" Troy asked when I landed next to him, unfazed by me jumping out of a two-story window.

"Ugh, do you _expect_ me to let us be picked off by whatever bastard has a gun?" I replied, a little hurt and a little disgruntled. Not because I cared about his opinion or anything like that. I flicked back my hair-which I was proud of, because it was fabulous. It was as black as a raven's wing-except for the white stripe on the left-and reached the tops of my thighs. Unfortunately, my bangs-which resembled a horse's forelock-were another story. They refused to grow out, and hung over my eyes in a perpetually emo way. My hair was only one of my stunning features that inflated my ego to a planet-sized mass.

"No. I just don't want you running around and killing everyone." Troy was always the voice of reason, and he ran a hand through his dark hair, the tips of which were as red as dying embers.

"In case you hadn't noticed, _he_ was the one who tried to kill _you._ I did you a favor!" I did my best not to pout, and the result was an expression that made me look like I just killed somebody. Oh, wait…

"I'm not disputing-" Troy started again, much to my dismay.

"LALALALALA, I CAN'T HEAR YOUR BULLSHIT! I'M DONE TALKING ABOUT THIS!" I interrupted, shoving my fingers into my ears and singing over him.

"You're awfully stubborn for someone so tiny." Troy's blue eyes were dancing with laughter, and I scowled. It was true, I was five-foot-nothing and under seventy-five pounds, and it was probably also true that my attitude made up for my diminutive stature. One of my favorite things about him was how he could deal with my…sins and let them lay.

"Whatever." I snorted and rolled my eyes as I fell into step beside him. "Really, though. I don't think the grimm are the real danger out here." The students from Mistral in Haven had been sent to Vale to clean out the grimm that still dwelled around the abandoned academy, Beacon. I wasn't really surprised that the beasts had continued to thrive, despite the time lapse of forty years. Negative feelings tend to linger. But though any area within a ten-mile radius of Beacon was overrun with grimm, people still roamed the area. When I say people, I realize that the majority of them are monsters wearing a human skin. Despite the blood that is on my hands-both literal and metaphorical-my ideals set me above what they were. While that may sound narcissistic, I have no choice to believe that it's true.

It's that, or find myself as a monster.

. . .

 **Troy's POV**

There was something odd about Aracion. She was stunning, no doubt about it-milk-white skin, curly black hair, the silver rings along her left equine ear-but her eyes held an intensity. She was calculating, and cold. She was irritable and explosive. Yet, she was kind to me. I wondered why that was. I couldn't help but be a little disturbed by the casualness of which she dismissed the death of our assailer, even though blood stained her palm. But, in all honesty, I was used to it. She was insane, but she was my friend, and she had stepped in the way of a bullet for me.

That. The realization she had willingly impeded death for me hit me harder than I had expected. I hadn't been paying attention, just enjoying her company, when she had veered in front of me.

It might sound like a bland description, but it wasn't anything remarkable. It wasn't as if we had been in the heat of battle-which we had been before-but she had been so _casual_ about it. It had almost made me dismiss the action.

Guilt filled me. How could I ever think anything nasty about her? She'd prevented my death many times-she'd saved me from two grimm, poison, and, oddly enough, a bus-and I hadn't spared her a thanks.

"Er, Aracion?" My voice cracked pathetically, and I wanted to smack myself. But she didn't seem to notice, only tipping her sharp-featured face my way, her unnerving eyes fixed on me with a half-smile on her lips.

"Hmm?"

"I…I just wanted to thank you for stepping in the way of that bullet." The words that fell from my mouth were startling. "You weren't hurt, were you?" She was _shot. She was hit by a fucking bullet._

"Oh, um." She reddened slightly. "I wasn't hurt, no." It was then I realized the tear in her grey steampunk-style tailed jacket, a rip in the skin-tight white shirt she wore under it, and spotted the silver metal of…armor? She was a strange girl. Now, she tipped her head up to the sky, her ears twitching on her head. It was cute in a weird way. "It's getting late. I think we should head back."

She was right. Our shadows had lengthened, and, though her faunus eyes had no problem with the dark, it was growing harder for me to see by the minute.

"Okay." Maybe one day, I'd be able to be half the friend she was.

. . .

 **Aracion's POV**

Chatter filled my ears as I hunched over my bowl, which was filled with what smelled like a concoction of chicken, garlic, and rice. I may be a horse faunus, and share equine preferences, but what set me apart from entire horse-yness was my love for meat. So, of course, living up to my stereotype, I ate…like a horse.

When I managed to pull my face out of my bowl-now empty-I set the dish beside me and leaned against the wall of the abandoned building the Mistral pairs had decided to occupy. I was set apart from the other students, but my eyes were fixed on Troy. While I usually played the part of a wallflower, I was considering leaving my comfort zone and going to sit with the group of people he was with. There were three: Reyna Yalt-a brunette beauty with an outgoing personality-Korn Pitt-a boy with a military haircut and wrapped in muscle-and another girl called Angeline Exciss-a girl with inexplicably turquoise hair and dark blue eyes. Troy's face lit up as he talked to these people.

 _His friends._ The thought sent a lance of pain through my heart. Of course, it wasn't jealousy-I didn't give half a damn about him as long as he wasn't dying, clearly. It must just have been an impending heart attack. It must have been heartburn. Yes, that was a viable explanation.

I immediately disliked both Reyna and Angeline. Never mind why. I stood. As Troy's partner, it had been made _incredibly_ clear to me by Headmaster Arc that defending the other half of your pair was imperative. I'd keep him from getting himself hurt by making a move on one of these girls. They'd shatter his heart like a glass plate used as target practice for a dude with a Remington. That would hinder his ability to protect our world.

Right? I wasn't doing this because I cared if he got involved with someone else. Hell, I didn't want to be involved with him. I lifted my chin, and my fingers instinctively flitted to the rings set into my left equine ear. Two were skinny silver rings with black beads ornamenting them. The other two were also silver, but the tiny twists suggested they were made of barbed wire.

 _Hot blood seeped over my fingers, almost as scalding as the tears that flowed down my cheeks. The body beneath my tiny hands was growing cold. Panic built in my chest, and as I-_

 _NO._ I wasn't revisiting this. At least, not here in public. I blocked the memories with my go-to thought-one that never failed to make me blush. It was a scene from my favorite book, called _Quadruple Satan,_ a burning romance-no smut, I promise, but still…

Troy looked surprised when I materialized beside him, which wasn't exactly flattering. I would have preferred a smile. My shadow flickered, and I stifled my scowl. Sometimes, the temptation to use my semblance-which was super-awesome and overpowered-was incredibly overwhelming. It was, predictably, the influence over shadows. Not only my own, but other's, as well. I could make them do whatever I pleased-at the expense of my aura, and eventually, my life-even climb inside their owners and kill them from the inside out.

That could be fun, actually. I'd have to try that sometime. Too bad I was under restriction of the law to use my semblance against anything that wasn't inanimate or wasn't a grimm. That didn't exactly warm me to the government, but even I had to admit, it was probably a good idea to install some damage control.

"Aracion?" Troy's voice was tentative, and held a hint of laughter.

 _Damn my runaway imagination._ I refocused. "Is it a sin to come and socialize?" I didn't mean to come off as defensive…

"Uh, no." Troy was bewildered, backpedaling to see what he'd done to offend me. "It's just that you've never…" He trailed off when he found himself on the receiving end of my death-glare, which, if I must say, was a very intimidating thing.

"There's always a first time, eh?" Oh, this was going to make for a very long night. Damn me and my sentiments.

. . .

 **Aracion's POV**

I hated it when I wasn't on night-watch duty. Okay, so maybe I should sleep enough to get rid of those bruise-like shadows under my eyes, but sleep always brought the nightmares, which brought the memories, which brought a very poorly-started day for me. So, I lay wrapped in my blanket, trying not to shiver even though I was wearing my coat-which was really a marvel, with its sophisticated tail and intricate buttons and chains. My legs-clad in black-and-brown striped leggings-were twisted together, and I had neglected to remove my black, knee-length lace-up boots. It was only about fifty-five degrees, and though most everyone was comfortable, I was _freezing._ Some might call me wimpy. I prefer to think of it as _sensitive._ Besides, I'm quiet about it. I'm not into flaunting my weaknesses. Just like how I'm not into flaunting the blood on my hands. Nobody-besides Troy-knows about what I've done, and not even said boy knows about most of it. Hell, I was too swallowed by panic to remember half of it.

A warm hand touched my cheek, and I flinched, startled. "What." I snapped, not really questioning, but demanding.

"Sorry." The tensity in my shoulders relaxed when I heard Troy's voice, and I rolled over, sitting up, despite being tangled in my blanket. "I thought that was your shoulder."

"Sure." I rolled my eyes and warded off a shiver. "What do you want?" When the words left her mouth, she could feel a strange vibe in the air…was Troy _nervous?_ Why? What? _I'm so confused._

"Is it okay if I sleep here?" He patted an area a few feet away from me, and my heart leaped into my throat.

"It's your decision." I kept my voice nonchalant while I suppressed any emotion-emotions like rage, fury, all those fun things. Definitely nothing like joy or anything positive. Right. Troy, like the sloth he was, collapsed to the ground beside me and wrapped himself in his blanket. I huffed quietly before I buried myself back into my woolen cocoon of itchy blanket material. Oh, well. It was something, and I was grateful.


	2. Invincible

**Hi, everyone. Hope you're enjoying the story, following along with an oblivious human and a yandere-ish faunus. I know I am. Anyway, thank you for reading, and please, please, generate some blacksun fanfiction for me to read…if you don't mind.**

* * *

 **Aracion's POV**

Grimm were everywhere, so I wasn't surprised when I rounded a corner, only to come upon a quartet of ursa. I mean, what was the point of cleaning the grimm out of a city if there weren't any?

I stopped so suddenly that Troy slammed into my back. "Watch it!"

"Sorry." He tried to peer over my shoulder as I aimed Fayodale for my throw. I had one chance to catch the ursai on their unawares. It would be best if we could get this over as safely as possible.

I stepped around the corner, and Fayodale spun from my hands, and my breath caught in my throat as the dark grey disk flew toward the ursai. Of course, it was quick enough that the grimm hardly registered my presence before Fayodale gutted one of them, and clipped another's side.

Clipped. I gritted my teeth. A graze wasn't enough to bring a grimm down. And, besides that, it caught sight of me. Predictably. Despite what I'd experienced, the six red eyes that fixed themselves on me sent chills down my spine. I reeled Fayodale in, and my fingers probed the metal until I found what I was looking for. A tiny dial. Quickly, I spun it, and in my hands, Fayodale morphed seamlessly into a broadsword. It never got old, switching my weapon's form.

The ursai snarled, stepping forward defensively. What I didn't understand about ursai was that they tended to be more tentative. Regardless, they were grimm, and grimm died. So, I did what I always did to grimm-I ran straight toward them. I'd dispatch them quickly. No need to get Troy involved. Sure, his Spanish Ticklers were badass and he was an excellent warrior, but…

Oh. I was too busy mentally monologuing to remember how I killed the ursai, and they tumbled to the ground, already dissipating. I-along with most of my comrades-was experienced enough to commit the terrible sin of loss of awareness. It was foolish, but it just…happened. It was like, 'ho-hum, I'm going to eat this hamburger,' and then, BOOM! 'Oh, crap, I just killed a couple bitches.'

Okay, maybe not quite like that, but along those lines.

"Nice." Troy acknowledged, nodding toward the partially-disintegrated corpses.

"Thanks." I flicked my hand toward the empty street. "Come on."

. . .

Even as we eradicated grimm, Troy and I still saw our fair share of people-people who weren't students. They flitted through the shadows like moths, silent and inconspicuous. Though Troy assured me they weren't going to harm us when I voiced my concerns, I still tracked them mentally until they were out of sight.

Now, I scrambled up the side of a building, the thick soles of my boots slipping on the cinderblocks as I pulled myself up onto the roof, digging my fingers into the faded green shingles as I did so. The sun-thank God for the sun-had warmed the textured layering, and I straddled the peak of the building, which looked like some sort of department store. Troy climbed up after me, heaving himself onto the roof, too.

"I'm so glad we decided to stop for a lunch break today." He confessed, pulling a slightly-smashed sandwich out of his pocket, along with a handful of Skittles.

"Yeah. I'm hungry, too." I agreed, digging in the huge pockets of my coat and withdrawing a peanut-butter sandwich and an apple. Just so this is clear, apple jokes at this moment are to be considered racist.

I gulped my sandwich down like a starving animal, and the fruit followed it. I had a tendency to inhale my food, and now, I leaned against the chimney and, in the creepiest way possible, watched Troy eat.

"Wha're yooing?" He mumbled through a mouthful of food, crumbs flying everywhere.

"Waiting for you to finish." I tossed out flippantly, examining the ends of my hair.

"Right." Within seconds, Troy had polished off the remainders of his food, and we both stood. "Come on." With that, he began to slide carefully down the roof while I-flaunting my faunus abilities-leaped down the slope of the roof and caught the gutter with one hand, sliding down until the bottoms of my boots thudded against the evenly-layered stones that made up the road. Once Troy reached me, we struck out at a quick walk down the streets. As we did so, my eyes scanned the grimy windows of the buildings around us, which were, unsurprisingly, still standing. After all, they were designed to withstand the elements. Though a fair amount of windows were smashed, a surprising amount were intact. I frowned. If we were, by chance, being stalked by a sniper, the glare of those windows could be used as an asset to them.

 _Now you're just being paranoid._ I thought internally. _Or not._

"Er, Aracion?" I followed the arc of Troy's finger to a vermilion splotch near the door of one of the apartment buildings that framed the main street.

"Oh, for God's sake." I snarled. This was getting way too disgustingly cliche. I stomped over to said stain, and hoping Troy wouldn't see, I leaned forward and gave it a deep sniff, wrinkling my nose when the telltale metallic scent of blood graced my senses.

"What is it, do you think?" Troy came to stand beside me, and I gave him a look.

"It's blood."

"How do you know?"

"Trust me." He complied nearly immediately, and I smiled. "I wonder where it comes-oh." A quick scan of the area revealed smaller stains spotting the wall ahead of us.

"Come on, somebody might need our help." Troy began following the prints, but I balked.

"Wait." I grabbed his sleeve.

"What?" His eyes were bewildered.

"What if it's a trap?" I lowered my voice.

"But…somebody could be hurt. It's our duty to help them."

"It could be a ruse."

"It might not be. Regardless, I'm going. You don't have to come." Troy pulled his arm from my grasp.

"Stubborn idiot." I muttered, but followed him. After all, I was adept in combat, and I could think on my feet. If I was right, numbers would help our odds.

 _My name is Aracion Argentum, and I'm invincible._

. . .

 **Aracion's POV**

What made me especially nervous was when Troy and I were bottle-necked into an apartment. The heavy wooden door swung open on its hinges, the panels streaked with bloody handprints. My footsteps were silent, and I swung my horse ears like satellites, searching for any sound that wasn't attributed to Troy or myself. When we stepped through the threshold, I was taken aback by the dimness in this specific apartment-which was tidy and nearly immaculate, with chocolate-toned furniture and white walls and carpet-despite the lamps that sat in every corner.

"If somebody were hurt…why would they try to make their way up here?" I wondered aloud to Troy. He paused from where he was, peering over the marble counter, his elbow in the kitchen sink.

"Maybe they live here." He spoke to me as if I were a child. It was true, I was younger, for he was seventeen-almost eighteen-and I had turned sixteen four months ago. But I was indignant at his condescending tone.

"I don't think so." I contradicted him, taking a deep whiff of the air around me. Other than the metallic tang of blood and the stench of rotting cheese and meat-which must have come from the refrigerator-I smelled only dust and a lingering scent of laundry detergent. "It hasn't been lived in for a week or more, I'd wager."

"How do you know?" He was getting impatient and frustrated with me, and I flattened my ears, arching my eyebrows.

"I can sense things you can't. Do you think I've been wrong yet?" At his pause, a half-smile walked up half my face. "I didn't think so."

"Okay, all-telling one, how do you think they got here?" Okay, that stung. He didn't trust me enough to believe me? At least I had an answer for him.

"I would think one of three ways." I gestured to the location of the bloodstains, which were about hip-height. "Either the producer of those was in pursuit of something-or being pursued-or they were dragged here. If they were bleeding this much, they were injured in a vital area, and they should have been crawling or staggering if they were free. If they were dragged, they may have struggled, leaving these results. There were also stains on the floor and on the ground outside that supported the latter idea." I reasoned.

"That's…ridiculous. How you can use logic to hypothesize about that, it's fucking amazing." Troy ran a hand through his red-tipped hair, and I ducked my head, blushing slightly. I wasn't used to such compliments, much less from my partner, despite his acknowledgements of my accomplishments.

"We should get back on task." I regained my grasp on my composure, my eyes tracing the streaks of brown on the floor. I shut my eyes, draining my own aura until behind me, my shadow exploded into reality, standing onto her own two feet at my heels.

"You never told me you could do that!" Troy squeaked. It was true, we hadn't thought to share our semblances with each other.

"Shush." Together, my shadow and I slunk forward, and I skulked to the bathroom door, which was partially open, revealing a heavily-shadowed interior. The faint light filtering through the narrow windows glinted off the mirror, and I carefully pushed my way through the door, pausing when the toe of my boot hit something solid. Surprised, my concentration waned, and my shadow-previously three-dimensional-sank back to the floor, again useless. My brain wasn't processing what I saw.

A blue-haired girl sprawled on her side, a deep stab wound leaking blood from her side. Her cream-colored jacket displayed a dove in mid flight, and her blue eyes were open and glassy.

"Marie." The word slipped from my lips. Marie had been one of my classmates. And now she was dead. I sighed. It was such a pity, seeing noble lives like hers destroyed.

"What is it?" Troy approached me, and I turned around, squaring my shoulders.

"Marie Azure." I answered.

"What?" Troy's face crumpled, and a pang went through my chest. That was how despicably selfish I was. "Is she…?"

Ugh, I hated it when people would trail off like that, as if finishing the sentence was a sin. "Dead. Yes, she's dead. Stabbed in the side. She bled out." I gritted my teeth and kept my voice emotionless.

"Well, what was she stabbed with?" Troy demanded, falling into step behind me as I walked away from the body, out of the bathroom, and toward the door.

"I don't know! A knife, a sword, I don't know!" I snapped. "Simple logic can't solve every mystery."

"How can you be so insensitive?" Troy retaliated, and I recoiled, stricken.

"B-because we have to be! Both of us! We can't afford to be hindered by emotions, not when we're constantly in danger." I blundered through the words carelessly.

"One of our schoolmates just _died."_

"People die all of the time!"

"And you don't care?"

"It's not something I can dictate! My-our-career doesn't care about life. It's based on _killing!"_ I was spiralling out of control, my voice was rocketing in pitch. _But he has a point. Marie's death affected me for mere seconds._

"We're supposed to save lives." Troy growled, his blue eyes flashing as he turned toward me.

A pain exploded in my back as Troy slammed me against a hallway wall, his hands digging into my shoulders. " _We aren't supposed to be murderers."_

"Ouch! You're hurting me." I whimpered, struggling against him, my ears flat against my head with ire and a touch of fear.

"You've killed." He didn't soften, and I wriggled futilely.

"This is a cruel world, Troy!" My insides seemed to harden, and my emotions froze, as if they had been blocked by metal. "The laws are kill or _be_ killed!"

"No." Troy's hot breath washed over my face, and I scowled, writhing against the hands that pinned me to the wall. "No, they're not."

"Oh, if you're so smart, why don't you tell me?" I leaned forward so Troy and I were nearly nose-to-nose, despite the significant height difference.

"There's more to life than survival, Aracion." His hands softened against my shoulders, although he didn't release me. I smiled wryly.

"Of course there is. There's death." I let out a short, bitter laugh.

A flash of red caught my eye as I looked over Troy's shoulder. Of course. Grimm. The very dreariness that Reyna's death brought and my own personal issues tended to attract the beasts. _If Troy's hurt, it's_ your _fault._

"Move." I ordered, reaching for Fayodale. " _Move!"_ I fumbled with the cord that was looped around my waist. I elbowed Troy out of the way, Fayodale lengthening into a broadsword as I did so, pushing between him and a boarbatusk. It wasn't common grimm appeared in buildings, but the piggy grimm apparently didn't care. Despite the close quarters, it balled itself up seamlessly. "Go, damn it, _go!"_ I shoved Troy-my partner, my friend-down the hall. "I'll be along in a moment."

The boarbatusk's hard carapace scraped the wooden floor as it began to spin before it spurted toward me like a cork off a bottle. I stood my ground, my heart still in my chest. I was selfish; terribly, despicably so. That was why I couldn't stand it if my only friend died, that was why I put my life on the line to protect the only person I cared about.

As the boarbatusk spun past me, I made a jab with my sword, catching the middle of it's twist. A lucky hit.

The creature unrolled, infuriated. Its cloven front hoof dug grooves in the floor as it dragged its appendage through the aged wood. It was angry enough to abandon any defensive strategies, and it would try anything if the result was having gored me on its tusks. This made it even more dangerous.

The worst part? I had virtually nowhere to run. _You've screwed yourself._

I'd take its tusks off. That would take away its greatest weapon. Focusing my aura upon the darkness in the corners, anywhere shadows were heavy, I pulled the wisps of darkness across the floor. If I exhausted my aura using my semblance to rip off the boarbatusk's tusks, fine. I could use what little power I had left to eradicate the damn monster.

I bent the shadows into thick ropes, and they wrapped around the tusks of the charging grimm, pulling at the white spears. A loud _crack_ echoed, and the grimm's head jerked to one side as the shadows snaked away, dropping the heavy tusk to the ground. However, my aura was draining away with a swiftness that was concerning. As for my shadows? I had invested in the other ones removing the other tusk, and these had merely existed, not applying any force. There wasn't time for me to dredge up a miracle.

"Aracion!" My head turned against my will when he called. Oh, Lord, what if he was being attacked? I couldn't be two places at once, no matter how hard I tried.

The sound of tearing flesh made my eyes widen, and the pain that exploded in my torso nearly knocked me off my feet. A loud ringing filled my ears, and my back arched with sheer agony. I could feel my ribs shattering, I could feel the skin that covered the bottom of my ribcage distorting and ripping. My distraction had caused me to be gored by a freaking _pig._ For some reason, this made me want to laugh.

 _I'm not as invincible as I thought._


End file.
